The first time I met Max Yearwood was on a blind date.

Max was insanely gorgeous, funny, and our chemistry was off the charts. He also had the biggest dimples I’d ever laid eyes on.

Exactly what I needed after my breakup.

Or so I thought…

Until my real date arrived.

Turned out, Max wasn’t who I was there to meet. He only pretended to be until my real date showed up.

To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

Before he left, he slipped me a ticket to a hockey game a few blocks away, in case things didn’t work out on my actual date.

I tossed the ticket into my purse and went about trying to enjoy the man I was supposed to meet.

But my real blind date and I had no connection.

So on my way home, I decided to take a chance and stop by the game.

When I arrived, the seat next to me was empty.

Disappointed again, I decided to leave at the end of the period.

Just before the buzzer, one of the teams scored, and the entire arena went crazy.

A player’s face flashed up on the Jumbotron. He was wearing a helmet, but I froze when he smiled.

You guessed it: Dimples.

Apparently, my fake blind date hadn’t invited me to watch hockey with him, he’d invited me to watch him play.

And so began my adventure with Max Yearwood.

He was everything I needed at the time—fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months since he’d signed with a new team three-thousand miles away.

Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right?

Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans.